


Unremembered

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Series: Blue Canary 'verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Episode Related, Episode: s01e09 Home, Flashbacks, Gen, Photographs, Pictures, Pre-Series, Sam Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: "If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like."





	Unremembered

“If it weren’t for pictures I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like,” Sam said once.

They were in the car. And as soon as Dean heard the fighting start--because this was the beginning of a fight, Sam was Sam--Dean was trying his hardest to not really listen.

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t have a point. Of course he did.

What it always reminded Dean of was how many times they’d been curled up in a motel bed and Sam had asked if things were this way because people were angry. At him. At Dean. At humanity.

It was hard to answer questions like that. It always had been.

The world was this way because the world was this way.

All Dean could do was keep being the quiet rock. And that was fine. He was good at it. While the three of them were in the car together, he would space in and out a little bit. He didn’t do it for long, not very much at all. He would have to know what was said between Sam and Dad by the time the fight was over. 

Even though he often said the same things in the aftermath.

_Stop fighting him. It won’t even work._

Leave it to Sam Winchester to want to fight a Marine.

Dean let out the barest little chuckle that he tried his damnedest to hold in. It didn’t stay in, though, because he was a Winchester and that was his luck.

Two glares settled on him at one time and he just--let go.

“The two of you. Cut from the same cloth. Listen, Sam, we’ll talk about this later.” 

And they would.

At least the stormy look on Sam’s face passed, and Dad didn’t say anything. He grunted a Marine acknowledgement. Dean had ended the fight, and for now that would be enough.

Later, when they were alone together, Sam would let out a fresh wave of frustration, and Dean would let it happen.

He knew lots of what Sam said that day, and he also knew what Sam didn’t say.

So many years later, when they got a box of pictures and pariphenalia from their old house, Dean would remember how many times the pictures had come up. Bunches of times, even times Sam didn’t have memory of anymore.

When Dean handed the box to Sam, it was without a word, but from the look in Sam’s eyes it seemed he knew what it meant.


End file.
